Colors - A Zutara Fanfiction
by avatartrash
Summary: It's shocking how a war can keep a person's life together


She is just fourteen when they meet as enemies. He, sixteen.

The Prince is the personification of fear in her eyes. She doesn't understand why, they're equally matched. At least she has a clear path for her life, a path of hope. Sort of.

It must've been that scar.

For him, the Peasant is just an obstacle. Another tool to manipulate on his path to restore his honor. Something, though, makes him hesitate. With each punch and kick he receives from her, he becomes more and more confused. At least he has something worth fighting for. Kind of.

It must've been those eyes.

* * *

"Hello, Zuko here!"

She'd punch him between the eyes if she had the chance now. And he knows that.

Things aren't running as smoothly as he had hoped between them. That's alright. He either had a lifetime to make up for it or they'd die within the next two months or so.

A week left until the comet and he waits outside her tent.

"It's an honor that you accompanied me. I needed that," she whispers in his ear as they embrace after their journey to find her mother's murderer.

"I will always be here."

But they both know that isn't true.

* * *

A comet fueled Agni Kai.

A sacrifice.

"Thank you, Katara."

"I think it's me who should be thanking you."

* * *

Fast forward two years and everything has changed.

She is sixteen. He's eighteen now, a real man.

She has barely kept in contact with any of her old friends, even Aang. It's shocking how a war can keep a person's life together.

Sometimes she'll stumble through the streets of the Fire Nation, her belly aching for food and her limbs aching for rest. He'll pass by on a float during a festival, or make an appearance at the opening of a store.

"Fire Lord," her voice repeats the words that have echoed through her mind thousands of times before. Still, they are foreign.

He's traveled to the Southern Water Tribe eight times the past year. The Fire Nation is funding its rebuilding. Still, he is questioned as to why so many vacations there.

He knows why. And deep down, so does she.

* * *

Seventeen. Nineteen.

She wonders what she's searching for and why.

A friend? A lover? An employer? She lives in a small apartment outside of the Fire Nation capital, barely able to afford rent. A couple of doors down stays her brother and his fiancée, Suki. The two speak of the things they love most about each other; her rosy lips, his tan skin. She does not understand.

He wonders who he's searching for and where.

He travels the world for her, but deep down he's always known she's been right underneath his fingertip.

There are rumors of the most beautiful gypsy in the Fire Nation, or even the world, buzzing around the streets of the capital. He senses that she is familiar, this speculated gypsy. But he isn't certain.

Each night, this gypsy dances for her dinner. One day she will be dancing for free.

* * *

She's nineteen and he is twenty-one. They have had their tattoos for one year and three years, respectively.

On the eve of their birthdays, a symbol appeared on the inside of their forearms, as it did to all eighteen year olds. Both symbols glowed a pleasant white. She reconnects with Aang.

She has read about the these strange markings. Everyone receives one at eighteen; it shines a bright white if one has already met their soulmate.

Yet there is another part to the inkings that she does not understand.

His shone white when he received it. He is sure that Mai must be his soulmate. They live together now. They are happy. They are soulmates. He is sure of it.

She is twenty when Aang reveals the secret that he has hidden from her for so long.

Color.

It is confusing at first, because that means that he has fallen in love with someone with a mutual feeling, and she cannot see these magical shades he describes.

"Black."

Her eyebrows quirk in response to his statement.

"Toph's hair…it is the most beautiful shade of black."

Now she knows the second part of the tattoo. These mystical hues that some call _color._ When one falls in love, their tattoo shines the color of the feature they first noticed of their lover.

* * *

"You wouldn't even believe it," Aang often visits the Fire Lord now, telling stories of love and tones and art. Toph is always by his side. "I just wish she could experience it."

He also wishes he could experience it, because Mai has, sometime ago.

"I'm leaving."

He nods at her, "Where are you going?"

"I believe I'll be joining a circus. Who knows? Maybe I'll even use my stilettos again."

He laughs, and for a second she cracks a smile.

"Goodbye, Fire Lord."

He opens his mouth, but she is out the door before he has a chance to respond.

* * *

A summer party. The biggest of the year in the Fire Nation Palace. Regardless of age, class, gender, everyone attends, masked to the rest of the world.

He is in costume, a simple blue mask matched with a plain black shirt and a pair of pants. The swords are an unnecessary touch.

She is there, too. Her face painted and covered by a thin red cloth. Her hair decorated with golden ornaments. Her body draped in silk.

Now, to him, she is not an obstacle. Instead a pleasant distraction from all the stress in his life. And he, to her, an embodiment of the adrenaline that is pounding through her veins.

It is chance that brought them together that night. Luck that she allows him to touch her waist, kiss her neck, whisper dirty things into her ear, and roll his hips into hers as they dance. And fate when she follows him to a dimly lit room.

There is no romantic buildup. No tearing off clothing or sultry make-out sessions. But soon her skirt is hiked up and his pants are halfway lowered.

She cannot scream his name when he enters her, and he cannot grunt his love for her as she rides him. Yet his hands come up to massage her breasts and her thighs clench around where she is straddling him.

She whines each time he thrusts up into her and he moans when she circles her wetness around him.

It is the most and least personal sex either of them have had. Yet as she begins to pulse and writhe on him, and his eyes roll back in his head while he releases into her, everything around them seems to freeze.

His head is titled backwards, and she catches a glimpse of his eyes through his mask.

 _Red._

She is gone.

Moments pass, and he snaps back to reality. She has vanished, and he wonders if any of what just happened truly was real.

And then he looks down to his tattoo, a light shade of blue emanating from it. In that moment, he knows nothing more than just that.

 _Blue._

* * *

A month has passed and she's been dancing through his mind every second of it.

To his surprise, when he hears that a guest is visiting, it is not Aang or Toph that walks through the doors to his room.

It is she.

She is dressed in a similar outfit to what they used to wear as children when they were undercover in the Fire Nation. How long ago that seems.

He lets his eyes linger for a moment on the swell of her breasts and the curve of her hip. A beautiful body for a beautiful soul.

She doesn't know what came over her when she wanders to the gates of the palace. She doubts he even remembers her real name.

"Zuko."

"Katara."

He does.

* * *

They've stood on the porch for three or so hours now. At first, the air was full of endless conversation. Now, they are silent. Enjoying each other's company, as they both fear it is their last chance to do so.

He opens his mouth to speak but she is grabbing his elbow, pulling him and twirling him and they are dancing on an empty porch to a tune of their own. A division of two worlds, of a broken group of friends, comes together into one.

From his arm shines a shade of blue that unsurprisingly matches the color of her eyes.

She stops, staring at the glowing, and he swallows because now he is caught. Now he is vulnerable. Now he realizes that she is his freedom, and without her he would be bound to nothing and everything.

She brings two fingers to his forearm, "Yours shines blue."

He is startled, unable to open his mouth. His gaze is strong into her lively eyes. They eyes he's fallen in love with.

She moves the fingers to his scar, "Mine shines red."


End file.
